


Christmas Shopping

by inklings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inklings/pseuds/inklings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Christmas shopping in Muggle London, Hermione Granger runs into her former classmate, Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Shopping

Once again, thanks to her busy work schedule at the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Hermione Granger was doing her Christmas shopping at the last minute. As she elbowed her way through the throngs of Muggle London, she cursed the fact that she’d waited so long… and that she couldn’t just order her gifts via owl.

But her magical friends, for whatever reason, treasured the items that Hermione bought them at Muggle department stores. Ginny had been hinting about a particular perfume she liked, and Mr. Weasley needed a new telephone (he’d accidentally set the last one on fire). Even Luna had casually mentioned that she’d heard about lipsticks that came in all the colors of the rainbow.

And so because she loved them all, and because even Ginny was a bit weird about going into Muggle London to buy her own perfume, Hermione suffered through the indignities of Christmas shopping. She made her way through the crowds (almost getting into a fight with a middle-aged woman who elbowed her in the ribs), searched through shockingly messy store displays, and checked off everyone on her list.

She bought cashmere scarves for Harry and Ron, a tube of navy blue lipstick and silver stockings for Luna, a cast-iron pot for Mrs. Weasley, and an inexpensive flip phone for Mr. Weasley. Hopefully, he’d take better care of this one. Finally, she located the exact perfume that Ginny wore and stood in the interminably long line to pay for all of her purchases.

By the time that the harried cashier rang her up and handed over her bags, Hermione was sweating and in desperate need of a drink. She gathered all of her things together, pushed through the department store doors, stepped out into the cold December air, and let out a huge sigh of relief.

And then she immediately froze in her tracks.

“Malfoy?” she blurted out, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing here?”

Because it was undeniably Draco Malfoy standing on the sidewalk in front of her, looking up at the department store with something akin to terror. He wore Muggle trousers, a black peacoat, and a soft gray scarf wrapped around his neck. Despite herself, Hermione found herself thinking that he looked quite handsome. In the intervening years since they left Hogwarts, he had grown into a man -- and a rather good looking one, at that.

He looked at her and Hermione steeled herself for something awful. She hadn’t run into Draco often since the war, and he was always distantly polite towards her. But Hermione always expected the same Draco she’d known from her school days, the boy with the acerbic, cutting remarks.

Instead of insulting her though, Draco let out a puff of air as relief washed over his features.”Granger,” he said, and his voice was deeper than she remembered. “Merlin, am I glad to see you.”

“You’re… what?” Hermione rarely found herself speechless, but this was simply too much. First she ran into Draco Malfoy (who she hadn’t seen in years) in the middle of Muggle London, and next he told her without an ounce of sarcasm that he was glad to see her. What was the world coming to?

He nodded towards the department store and pulled a handful of notes out of his pocket, looking almost wild with confusion. “My aunt… Andromeda… well she sent me to buy Teddy some toys for Christmas since she’s been ill and can’t do it herself. But I don’t exactly know my way around Muggle stores. Could you help me out?”

Hermione was shaking her head before he even finished speaking. There was a part of her that warmed towards him when he mentioned Andromeda and Teddy -- she hadn’t realized that he kept in touch with his aunt -- but the idea of going back into the store made her shudder.

“Oh, no. I’m not going back in there.. I just bought everything that I needed and escaped unscathed. Sorry, but you’re on your own.” She started to walk away, but turned around to give Malfoy a small, real smile. Maybe it was the first time she’d ever smiled at him. “Happy Christmas, Malfoy.”

She walked briskly down the street, but she didn’t make it very far. After just a couple steps, Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder and Malfoy pulling her to a stop. “No!” he cried out, and several people on the street turned to watch. Hermione felt herself blush at the attention. “You can’t just leave me here like this to fend for myself.”

“Yes I can, Malfoy,” she snapped back, annoyed. “We’re not exactly friends, and it’s not as if I’m leaving you to be torn apart by lions. You just have to do some Christmas shopping. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of handling that all on your own.”

“But you’re Hermione Granger.” He had let go of her shoulder and put his hands in his pockets, which gave him an oddly vulnerable look. “You enjoy working with hopeless causes. And I thought you’d leap at the chance to teach a Malfoy about Muggle culture.”

“Shopping isn’t exactly what I’d call culture,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. But she could feel her resolve slipping as she looked at him.

“Come on,” Malfoy wheedled, giving her a lopsided smile. His real smile, Hermione thought, looked much nicer than that awful smirk he sported all throughout their school years. “Do it for Teddy.”

That did it. Hermione thought of Remus and Tonks’ adorable little boy, and something twisted in her chest. “Well alright then,” she relented, and Malfoy’s smile widened. “But you’re buying me a pint afterwards.”

\--------------------

Christmas shopping with Malfoy, Hermione had to admit, was not nearly as terrible as she’d anticipated. He was utterly baffled by Muggle London, and she had to pry his fingers off from her wrist as they moved through the crowds, trying to avoid getting trampled by deranged shoppers.

“Malfoy,” she hissed when he tried to grab her hand. “Stop touching me. You’re giving people the wrong impression.”

“Fine,” he said, his gray eyes flashing with what she could have sworn was panic. “But if you abandon me, I’ll hunt you down and make you pay, Granger. Don’t think I won’t.”

There was a time when Hermione would have whipped out her wand at those words and hexed Malfoy before he could take another step. There was a time when she would have taken them as a serious threat on her life. But now, a full decade after the war had ended, Hermione was surprised to find that the cold fear that used to follow her everywhere had simply vanished.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and pointed towards the escalator. “Come on, then. The children’s department is on the third floor.”

Malfoy looked appalled. “You expect me to get onto that death contraption? Granger, you cannot be serious.”

Despite his misgivings, Malfoy ended up following Hermione up the escalator (even though he muttered under his breath about plunging to his death for a bloody toy) and to the children’s department, where they searched for every single item on Teddy’s wish list. Hermione smiled as she watched Malfoy diligently comb through the piles of toys to find the least squashed box or the most pristine white stuffed bear.

She honestly hadn’t expected Malfoy to care about getting Teddy the very best toys. There was something in the serious way that he turned the boxes over in his hands to inspect them for dents that made her feel warmth towards him. If she was watching any man but Malfoy, Hermione admitted that she would have found the whole scene… touching. Cute, even.

“Do you mind helping me with payment, Granger?” Malfoy’s voice was a welcome interruption to Hermione’s disconcerting thoughts, and she looked up to see him clutching enough bills to pay for every item in the entire children’s department. “I’m not quite certain how Muggle currency works.”

Hermione plucked a couple of notes out of Malfoy’s hand before looking over her shoulder. “Put the rest of that away before someone tries to rob you,” she hissed. “Merlin, you’re walking around with enough money for a down payment on a house.”

“I was trying to be prepared,” Malfoy retorted, sounding almost wounded.

They made their way to the queue, which was a dozen shoppers deep. Malfoy let out a sigh, but surprisingly didn’t make any snide comments about the Muggle world’s lack of efficiency. He gritted his teeth, but remained quiet even when the elderly woman in front of them announced that she was here to return three items and buy another four.

The cashier was a disturbingly cheerful young girl dressed in an elf costume. She smiled brightly at them when Malfoy set down all of his purchases and asked, “Oh, are you doing some last minute shopping for your children? How nice!”

Malfoy and Hermione stared back at her in puzzlement, their faces blank. Then, understanding hit them both at the same time and Hermione’s face immediately heated up in embarrassment. She glanced over at Malfoy, who was grimacing and averting his gaze.

“Uh no,” Malfoy said, coughing. “These are actually for our… I mean, we’re not together.”

“They’re for a child,” Hermione supplied unhelpfully. “A child we know.”

The cashier’s smile faded just a little bit as she rang up the presents and wrapped them in tissue paper. “Well, I’m sure that… child you know will love his gifts!” she chirped at last. “Happy Christmas to you both.”

As they walked out of the department store, Hermione stole a sideways look at Malfoy. Why in the world had the cashier thought that they were together? Couldn’t she tell that they weren’t even friends? The whole situation was so ludicrous that Hermione wanted to laugh… if only she could stop blushing.

“Thanks for helping me,” Malfoy said awkwardly  when they stepped out onto the street. His hair had gotten a bit mussed and his cheeks were rosier too -- probably from jostling through the throngs of shoppers.

Hermione smiled and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “It’s not a problem,” she said and turned to leave. “I’ll see you around, Malfoy.”

As she walked down the street, Hermione thought of how odd this whole encounter had been. Who would have thought that she and Draco Malfoy would ever be able to spend a whole hour together without any insults or hexes thrown? It appeared that things really had changed since their Hogwarts days.

Before she could reflect on it further though, Malfoy’s voice rang out behind her.

“Granger, where are you going?”

Hermione whirled around to see Malfoy still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a familiar smirk on his face. “Did you forget already? I owe you a drink.”

\--------------------

“I don’t know why I asked you to buy me a drink,” Hermione admitted once she and Malfoy were sequestered in a cozy booth at a nearby pub. “It’s a little strange spending time together socially, isn’t it?”

Malfoy shrugged and took a sip of his whiskey. “It’s true, we were never friends,” he said. “But we share some common history. In some way, that makes us important to each other.”

Hermione couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that, and so she just took a long swig of her pint. The liquid easily slid down her throat and settled into her stomach, giving her rush of warmth through her whole body. She took another, and then another until the drink disappeared.

When she looked up again, she saw that Malfoy was watching her with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose I should order you another drink,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I never thought you’d be able to drink me under the table, Granger.”

“I’m just nervous,” she blurted out. “I don’t know how to act with you. I feel like we’re on the verge of saying horrible, unforgivable things to each other.”

Malfoy’s smile fell, and he looked down at his hands. Hermione wanted to clap a hand over her mouth and stuff her words down her throat, but it was too late -- they were already hanging in the air between them. She didn’t think she’d ever heard a more excruciatingly awkward silence.

After a beat, Malfoy cleared his throat. “So… you still feel the same way about me, then,” he said, still not looking at her. “You still hate me. I don’t blame you, of course.”

“No!” Hermione rushed in to say. For some reason, despite all of their years of bad blood, she didn’t want Malfoy to think that she still hated him. It simply wasn’t the truth. “I don’t hate you, Malfoy. It’s just… what are we doing here together?”

At her words, Malfoy smiled. He held up his glass and met Hermione’s eyes, and for some reason her stomach did a little flip. “We’re having a drink together. That’s it. So tell me, Granger, what are you up to these days?”

Maybe it was the alcohol lowering her inhibitions, but after half an hour and two drinks, Hermione found herself truly enjoying Malfoy’s company. She had spent the last five minutes laughing along as he regaled her with mishaps that he’d run into as a potions researcher. When Malfoy talked about his job, his face came alive. He smiled easily and made big gestures with his hands, and Hermione found herself musing with alarming frequency just how handsome he was. That, she decided, was definitely just the alcohol.

“...and so it exploded in my face and turned my bloody hair gray for a week. Blaise wouldn’t stop calling me ‘grandfather’ for months,” he grinned, and ran a hand through his hair as if to check. “It’s a harrowing job at times.”

“It sounds exciting.” Hermione leaned forward on her elbows and grinned back at him. “It sounds more fun than what I do, anyway.”

“Ah yes,” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Maintaining world peace is never all that fun, but someone has to do it. And you’re the best witch for the job, Hermione.”

“You called me Hermione,” Hermione pointed out, laughing. For some reason, the idea of being on a first name basis with Draco Malfoy was almost too hilarious. “And you just paid me a compliment. What has the world come to?”

“I’m just acknowledging the truth,” Malfoy said with a shrug. The color in his cheeks was heightened, and he reached up to loosen his collar. “You’re brilliant and everyone knows that. And as for the name thing… you can call me Draco if you’d like.”

“Draco,” Hermione said experimentally, and promptly burst into a fit of giggles. “Draco. Draco. Draco. Merlin, this is weird.”

Malfoy looked amused. And then without warning, he reached across the table and placed his hand over Hermione’s. His hand was cool and heavy over hers, and Hermione almost pulled away… but found that she didn’t want to. There was something appealing about sitting here with Malfoy, their hands touching as they looked into each other’s faces.

“I’m having a good time with you,” Malfoy said after a long silence. “It’s… it’s been nice.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, feeling a bit lightheaded. She bit her lip and looked down at their hands. “It’s been far more enjoyable than I expected. Perhaps… perhaps we could learn to be friends.”

Malfoy nodded as a real smile broke out across his face. “I’d like that,” he said. “And as a friend, I was going to invite you out to dinner tonight.”

There were a million possible excuses that passed through Hermione’s mind in that instant. She thought of how Harry and Ron would react, and how it was cold out, and how she still had three briefs that she needed to write for work. But she was sitting in a pub with Draco Malfoy, and everything in her wanted to say yes to his invitation.

So she nodded. “I suppose we have to eat.”

“We do,” Malfoy agreed, squeezing her hand.

It wasn’t much, but it was a beginning. **  
**

_**fin** _ **.**

  



End file.
